Wednesday, January 25, 2012

This man contacted me via online message and and planned a date within 3 messages, without getting my number. The men who do this are usually the most shopworn on the internet, but they really know what they are looking for and how to get it. This type of man will always be all business. It’s like me, only a man. He wrote that he was actually looking for something long term, but that he could date me until … (uh, thanks). His profile picture was a professional headshot in business attire; something sensible that won’t look stupid in the future. This is one of the best types of shots and further proof that this guy meant business. He was approaching online dating like a hunter approaches a gazelle.

He invited me to an afterwork drink at a local bar on Queen St. He asked on Tuesday for a Friday night date and I accepted. He re-confirmed the day of; with excruciating detail as to where exactly I would find him sitting in the bar and the time: 6:30pm. Talk about pro-active. Or anal-retentive. You choose.

I arrived with rosy cheeks after a brisk 15 minute walk through January in Canada subzero temperatures. However, the area is hip and it gave me the time to get some all important window shopping done. I, too, am a hunter, you see.

But lo and behold! The appointed moment arrived and he was not there. So I waited the required five minutes, did one consolation lap around the teeny tiny space just to be sure, checked my inbox in case there was an urgent message from an injured potential suitor (eaten by lions ? fell into a lifeboat?) and when there wasn’t I decided to leave. But not until the strangest thing happened, brah.

As I was moving towards the door, a man (a small man) was standing at the entrance holding the most beautifully wrapped single pink rose and he looked directly at me with a scared look on his face. Now, I know what you are thinking, right? This guy is my date.

So I moved past him sweetly, found a spot just inside the door and watched what he did:
He walked outside.
And leaned against the exterior wall.
Waiting.
After a minute of this, I walked outside and asked if he was waiting for someone named Elle. He smiled and said No. I looked at him for a minute and then at the rose. Probably longingly. He followed up with “I mean, I am waiting for someone, but not Elle”. And he smiled. Sweetly.

Oh, I said softly [Insert sad violin music here]

I kind of wanted to pull out my phone and show him a picture of the guy I was supposed to meet from his online profile and bark “Is this you?” like a cop. But if he wasn’t into it, then I can’t chase him. That's Rule #2. I did find it odd that he watched me walk across the street and get into a cab for home. The following day there was a message from Date#57 time stamped from 7:06pm advising that he was at the bar and should he wait for me?

So, let me get this straight Date#57: You planned and confirmed a date that you - then - showed up 30 minutes late for? So I politely (read: pointedly) outlined that I had been there at the correct time, and that since he had planned it and re-confirmed it, I had assumed it was convenient for him…etc. Then I blocked him so I didn’t receive any angry rebuttals. Because men are so predictable.

That same weekend, I had a Sunday afternoon date scheduled. Daytime activities are excellent ways to get to know someone but it is important to remember that they are not romantic. It does not – and will never - compare to a simple drinks date. The man who offers to do a daytime activity date is only looking for a sports buddy, not a lifemate.

But I hadn’t had honey garlic barbeque wings in a while, so I accepted.

I was supposed to meet Date#58 at a local bar to watch an NFL playoff game. However, I had car trouble and had to cancel. He was cool about it and invited me to coffee another time, or to watch the SuperBowl. Whoa, big step. He was willing to sacrifice the whole SuperBowl on a first date. He meant business. Sadly, I did not. His picture was too blurry and far away and he never did ask for my number.

I guess I will just have to buy my own wings.

Full Disclosure: I have no idea if the guy with the rose was my date. Dear Reader, what do you think? You are welcome to post comments. As for Mr. Football, I didn’t respond to his second offer. And because men are predictable, this only inflamed his ardour. He promptly followed up the next day with a request for my number. It was a bad case of too little, too late. I deleted it. The whole weekend was such a bomb that seriously considered taking my profile(s) down. But then my eHarmony profile auto-renewed, so I took it as a sign from God (ha!)and didn’t.

And if anyone wants to watch the SuperBowl with me, then please bring enough money for 2 orders of wings. And beer.

Friday, January 13, 2012

This man wrote me a message but I forget what he said. All I remember was that he wrote me a lot of them until he got my number. He was the type of guy to really beat around the bush (pardon the pun). He started out by texting on a Friday or Saturday, however I do not text strangers – especially, as every Rules girl knows, not on the weekend - he eventually had to call.

He called on a Monday night during a James Bond film with Daniel Craig. Since I had just re-read my highlighted copy of The Rules over the weekend (The Rules recommend that you refresh your memory every so often), I decided to set my oven timer for 5 minutes so I could get back to my movie quickly while making it seem like I was busy cooking some delicious feast. The benefit of my oven timer is that it’s shrill piercing shriek can shatter glass and eardrums in a fifty mile radius.

(I once had an actual boyfriend comment, “Did it come like that?”)

So five minutes in, when he still hadn’t gotten to the point, the buzzer went off and I made my excuses and got off the phone. In the absence of an actual dinner, I poured myself a hot glass of wine and got off to Daniel Craig. Shut up.

Somewhere in the conversation I had mentioned that he wasn’t the only guy I had met online (a fairly benign admission) and this completely inflamed his desire. He became fervent in his wish to see me on Saturday night. He sent texts and online messages saying “I like competition” and “Keep Saturday open”, which I did according to The Rules, but since he had not asked me a question, I did not feel the need to answer him. This had the desired effect and while I was out on Friday night he finally caved and texted, “Where and when?” I gave him the address of my local and he promised to be there. A Rules girl always waits for the man to make plans, unless he asks for suggestions.

He texted Saturday afternoon while I was taking my nap to confirm the date. This is normal and expected. Then he texted a few moments before the date time telling me he was at the bar. But he wasn’t. He waited until I walked in. Then he texted from outside asking what I was wearing. I was beginning to lose patience and I warned him that I was going to leave. Rules girls only wait 5 minutes. Finally he walked into the tiny bar and stood against the wall and stared at me and my table. I rolled my eyes. Beat around the bush indeed.

Then he did the one thing that defines exactly how a date will go: He looked at me, then walked away pretending he didn’t see me. He wanted me to chase him. Or something. I sighed. I now knew everything I needed to know about him. He was insecure.

He approached the table and I was pleasantly surprised to see that he looked like a less-bulky Mark Wahlberg. He was 46 but in GREAT shape. He was separated with four kids. The date went quickly. He was very engaging and I forgot that we got off to a bad start. He was really fighting for the date because he sensed I had one foot out the door. He described himself as competitive. He wanted a relationship where he was “not accountable to anyone”. Twice he asked a version of the question, “What are you doing later?” but could never quite get to it. I did not answer directly but instead changed the subject. My bush was getting tired of being beaten around.

He called for the cheque and walked me to my car. I could feel that he wanted to kiss me, but he lost his nerve. As soon as I was in car and out of view the texts began again. He wrote “def like u”, that he wanted to see me again and that he wished he had kissed me… Well, we all want things, Son. So I guess I can file this under “lotsa talk, no action”. Besides, my bush was exhausted.

Full Disclosure: Cue the Needy Text Message Monster!On Monday evening the texts began again. It was more of the “hello”, “How was work” variety. Since we all know how I feel about text messages, we know exactly what I did with them. I deleted them.

Tuesday they started a little earlier with “What are u doin later” and went later into the night with “U alive”; a profound statement he felt the need to send twice. Lack of punctuation indicates hipster apathy. I can’t really deal. Then the grand gesture! A phone call at 9:48pm but that was too late for me to pick up (read: I was busying watching “Secret Diary of a London Call Girl”). He did not leave a message. I guess it wasn’t that important.

Here’s where it get interesting. On Wednesday, he suggested I drive an hour away to meet for a drink. (read: He wanted me to drive for an hour in the driving snow wearing thigh highs and garters, by request, and deliver sex to his doorstep). I declined this generous offer. But he was persistent and on Thursday he asked (via text!) if I wanted him to pick me up and he could do the driving. Since that is how most axe-murder movies start, I wrote the following text hoping to terminate the relationship:

What kind of car do you drive?

Nothing irritates a non-BMW-driving man more than this question from a female. Where I grew up, all men drive a car they are fiercely proud of, no matter how stupid, silly, rusty or covered in peach sparkle paint (He called it “Peaches and Chrome”, get it?). I discovered men’s sensitivity to their vehicles only later in life. Real Men are proud of what they drive the same way they are proud of their watches. If they aren’t, there is something wrong. As I said before, he was insecure.

He: lol why?

Me: Interesting answer. No thank you.

There was a 15 minute pause and I thought I had killed it. But, no…

Him: My car was stolen. I’m driving a rental. Why does that matter?

I nearly screamed with laughter. He still wasn’t telling me what he drove. But he was alluding that it was worth stealing.

Me: You chose me based on looks. I choose men based on chemistry and part of that is how successful I perceive them to be. I’m afraid I do not believe your stolen car story. Please do not contact me again.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Dear Reader, I have been keeping a secret. For the past year I have enjoyed the perfect FWB relationship. For those of you who don’t know, FWB stands for “Friends with Benefits” and if you are still unclear, please Google it. Of course, this has nothing to do with The Rules, just the natural evolution of a girl on the internet. I met him through a regular date and the rest just followed naturally.

Now, let me take a moment to explain my position on this issue: I love sex. No, I don’t do it all the time because I am not a sex addict; but I believe that one is healthier, happier and wiser if sex is not something you are constantly craving. Done correctly, good sex is sacred. It deserves to be honored. This is difficult within the FWB parameters, but once this balance is found it should not be fucked with (pardon the pun).

Some of my personal rules when achieving FWB:
1) Never try and do this while you have feelings for someone else. Don’t be idiot. You will end up needy and hurt and crying after sex. Not a good look, Single Girl.
2) Never try and do this if you have actual feelings for your FWB. Don’t be an idiot. He is never going to honestly consider you girlfriend or wife material. Yes, we have all heard the urban legend about the “exceptions” to this rule, but I have never met one. Have you?
3) Don’t let it last more than a year or you will develop feelings for each other. You are not robots.

I met Date # 40 in January 2011. He wrote me a note, asked for my number and then started texting. I asked him to “call me after 5” and to my surprise, he did. He was charmingly shy but we managed to agree on a place near me. We met for a simple drinks date. He was very handsome (i.e. He looked a bit like Henry Rollins) and he was decent and kept the conversation clean; I was intrigued. He asked me to his place 2 nights later and because we started sleeping together almost immediately, I did not feel correct about blogging about him. I do have some limits. He was handsome (did I mention that?), well-employed, with his own home and a strong friendship base and a close relationship with both his parents. He was kind, quiet and most of all he was very normal. He never did anything or said anything that put me off. Occasionally he was even funny. Jackpot, right?

Our relationship was never exclusive but that was okay with me. I did not have the right amount of chemistry with him to pursue a real relationship. Besides, that is not how Rules girls work. He made the offer of sex, not a relationship and you have the option of saying Yes, or No. Rules Girls know that there is no way to force a man into a relationship. And so I made my choice. I said Yes to what he was offering with my eyes wide open. He was just really … quiet. He did not seem to have any other interests other than working out and …working.

Which is great.

It’s just not that interesting enough for me to invest all my time. I took this to mean he was not that smart. Or, he might have had thoughts but he did not want to discuss. Who am I to judge? Like I said, I just wanted a normal clean cut guy to fit into my life as needed. We weren’t getting married. Besides, it allowed me to be quiet too and that was very relaxing. While he was not very good in bed, he made up for this with his enthusiasm. It was just what I needed and I loved it. I treasured it. I never bragged about it. I never blogged about it. I always looked my best when I saw him. I always let him take the lead and it encouraged him to become better. Toward the end of the year we were really in sync.

I was so happy with this arrangement that I was getting ready to write a blog post about it. I was going to crow with excitement about how I had the perfect “friends with benefits” relationship. But I am glad I didn’t, because right after Christmas I rec’d the following message from him:

Hey Elle I forgot I don't have your number so can't call you back. I have my best friend over for his birthday tonight, he's a 6'5 good looking dude if you wanted to stop anyway...no pressure he's just dropped his daughter off in Texas as lonely spending his birthday and holidays with me tonight. Two good looking dudes for you tonight if you are interested, might be an interesting experience for you just food for thought. I'll leave you his number so we can text if you don't wanna talk 415-123-4567

My first thought was, “Wow, I was not aware that he could convey more than a simple thought at once! He is smarter than I thought! That’s really hot!”
My second thought was, “Oh! He’s gay and this is how he chose to tell me!”
My third thought was, “Wow! That’s pretty dangerous! How do I know they wouldn’t record what happened and put it on the Internet?”

Which is why I did it first.

Full Disclosure: No. I did not respond. Only after I blocked him, changed my screen name and my picture did I manage to feel normal again. I am deeply disappointed that he treated me like a hooker at a biker rally and tried to pass me around to his friend(s). But I am way more upset that he was so casual with my phone number. It’s insulting that he wouldn’t take the time to write it down. He wasn’t as normal as I thought.

Fuller Disclosure: So a week later I called the best friend and slept with him. Oddly, the best friend had no idea about what happened. My profile is now blocked from Date#40 but he still stares at it. I can tell because he is always at the top of the “Who’s Viewed Me” list every morning when I check my messages. He changed his profile too. It now says that he is looking for a proper girlfriend, rather than friends with benefits. And I am sure he can have anyone in the world. Just not me.